


Unfinished

by The_Lizard



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Minor The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age) is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22653610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lizard/pseuds/The_Lizard
Summary: Shaelora Lavellan takes some time for herself during the celebration for Corypheus's defeat.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas
Kudos: 6





	Unfinished

**Author's Note:**

> My inquisitor gets a little overwhelmed in big/loud crowds, and I thought everything happened pretty fast at the end, so she would have to sneak away from the party to feel some feelings.

Shaelora Lavellan stood in the entryway to Skyhold's main hall. She had seen several gatherings in this hall—largely at the behest of Josephine—but none came close to matching tonight. The celebration marked the defeat of Corypheus, and Skyhold was full to bursting with those wishing to bask in the victory. Music and revelry poured out of the main hall, and she could hear other gatherings--smaller but no less raucous--from outside. Shae's eyes roamed the large hall, over the bright tapestries adorning the stone walls, the cheery light provided by entirely too many candelabras, the masses of friends and guests alike crowded into the space before her.

Shae made her way through the hall, her path barred by faceless visitors eager to steal her attention. She shook hands and smiled as best she could, accepting congratulations and heavy hands on her shoulders. She moved from one empty space to another, weaving through the crowd and inching her way towards a familiar door.

From across the hall, Bull caught her eye. He was settled at the end of one long serving table, with his Chargers crowded around him. Shae could see Dorian amongst them, leaning precariously on Bull's shoulder, waving his hands animatedly as he spoke with Krem. Though Dorian was currently taking up most of Bull's space, practically in the larger man's lap at this point, Shae could see one eyebrow raised in concern in her direction. Shae gave a pinched smile and a slight shake of her head. She cared for the man—as she did all the friends she gained though this tumultuous journey—but what she wanted most at the moment was solitude. Bull held her gaze for a moment longer, reading her, before he inclined his head and turned his attention back to the men at his side. As she turned away, Shae could hear The Iron Bull start up the first verse of the Chargers' drinking song, quickly joined by the others and even some attendees.

Finally reaching her destination, Shae gave a quick nod to the soldier at the door, and pushed her way into the relative silence of the rotunda. Though she had been graciously left alone to recuperate after the battle, she had gotten very little rest at all. Thoughts of Solas stole her mind away from most everything since his disappearance. Shae moved further into the vacated study of her former love, the click of her boots echoing up the round tower. A few of the ravens rustled in their cages high above her at this new disturbance, but settled again quickly. Shae’s eyes fell closed and she tilted her head back against her shoulders. The cool air of the rotunda washed over her, carrying the scent of parchment and birds from the upper levels of the tower.

After a few moments— _minutes?_ —she opened her eyes again, feeling calmer but no less exhausted. Her eyes roved across the high walls of the rotunda, each section painted to reflect the Inquisition’s victories. She turned slowly, taking in each mural, the careful brushstrokes detailing the exaggerated shapes of defeated enemies and secured alliances. Her dazed spin stopped at the final section, an uncolored sketch of two dragons. Shae frowned as she studied it. She stepped closer, hands reaching up to gingerly run her fingers across the outlines of the abandoned piece. The figure on the left stood triumphant over its slain counterpart, meant to depict Mythal's guardian. Shae felt along what she could reach of the beast, brushing against the dried paint. Her frown deepened. The mural was evidence enough of Solas's hasty departure. Her heart clenched at his absence. Familiar dark clouds crowded into her mind, souring her mood further.

Shae brought her other hand to the tip of her nose, tracing up towards her hairline along the phantom remnants of her vallaslin. Her eyes welled up as her fingers moved across her forehead, brushing her choppy bangs aside. She wished she knew whether she regretted having the vallaslin removed. They had been part of her for so long, a mark of pride at her coming of age, a deep tie to her clan, her people. And yet, she couldn’t forget what Solas had told her. That they marked the faces of slaves, the true meaning lost and repurposed by the Dalish elves. In that moment, it was all she could think about. And when presented with the choice, she bid him take them from her.

 _Tp_. The sound of something falling against her chest drew Shae from her thoughts. Looking down, she noticed a small wet drop had soaked into the fabric of her shirt. Her eyes blurred for a moment and another spot appeared on the shirt. Blinking, she felt a stream of warmth flow down her cheeks, refilling paths already forged, and several more tears fell. A short huff left her as she brushed the tears from her face. As fresh tears replaced them, she grit her teeth and scrubbed at her face in agitation. How could she still have tears left, after all this?

Shae drew in a shaky breath and backed away from the unfinished mural, stumbling into the large desk chair in the center of the room. She sat heavily in the plush seat, pushing her back against the firm wood. Her hands clenched at the arms of the chair as she fought to calm herself. The earthy scent of the chair's owner surrounded her, and she was plunged over the edge of control. She released her grip on the chair and ran both of her hands roughly through her short hair. Her heart felt like a stone in her chest, dragging her down until she was doubled over her knees. Tears ran hot and wild down her face, their flow seemingly endless. Ragged, stuttering breaths wracked her body as she fisted her hands against her scalp and wept.

What felt like hours passed before a loud caw broke through the mess of her mind. Shae blinked to clear her eyes and slowly unwound herself from her hunched position. A large raven near the edge of the rookery pumped its wings, rattling its cage, and let out another indignant squawk. Shae leaned back and stared at the bird from the chair in the rotunda, face still colored by her misery. She watched the crow resettle as she evened out her breathing.

After a few moments, she wiped at the dried, salty tracks along her cheeks and chin. She reached up and ran her fingers through her hair, straightening the clumps she had pulled askew. She pushed herself up out of the chair and towards the door, smoothing her shirt as she walked. She hesitated in the entryway, hand resting on the edge of the wall as she glanced again at the unfinished painting. She eyed the plain sketch for only a moment before turning away, and exiting the rotunda.

**Author's Note:**

> Hhhhhhh this is literally the first thing I've written since I was in school, so forgive me if it's a little unpolished.


End file.
